A Lethal Time (A Samantha Jamison Mystery Volume 4) (14 page)

Chapter 58

An Unexpected Visual

This apparently was the driving force behind what sealed Robinson’s real estate deal with Jackson. Now, what was so important about those photos?

“Were they old war photos?” I asked. “I’ve learned that Robinson served overseas in Germany. But other than that, I don’t know of anything involving any diaries of his.”

He gave me a strange look. “I haven’t a clue about that. They were recent photos taken in the last couple of years, and the subject matter sort of surprised me.”

“What was it?”
Could it be more properties?

“They included something I didn’t expect to see.”

“And what was that?”

“Sarah’s husband, George, that’s who.”

“Was he smiling?”

“Don’t joke about that gun-toting, cane-bashing nut.”

I smiled. “Yup, sounds like the same guy I met.”

“The photos caught him dismounting a horse, taken in photo sequence.”

But he was infirmed. How did he ride a horse?

Then I gave myself another mental slap. Of course infirmed people rode horses. Plus, he drove a car. That’s how he got to Sally’s house that day.

“He could’ve been helped onto the horse,” I suggested.

“That’s what I thought. So
that
didn’t seem odd.”

“Then what did?”

“Just before Robinson snatched those photos from my hands, I caught a glimpse of something disturbing. And here, all this time, I thought he was some tough dude acting hostile and aggressive.”

I already knew that Sarah’s George, old Eagle-Eye, was aggressive as hell, but what in the world was Jackson specifically referring to? What had George done?

Porter sat forward. “I caught a good look at that last photo and I know what I’m talking about.”

“I got that. I don’t doubt what you saw. Just tell me what was so disturbing about that last photo.”

“I know you’ll think I’m crazy, but I’d know that wild horse anywhere. It was Boss. Now, why would an old infirmed guy be riding a hostile, wild horse like that?”

I sat there staring directly at Jackson and felt he was telling me the truth. I remembered my reaction to Boss’ skittish behavior and the wild look in that stallion’s eye.

“That’s a good question,” I replied.

Jackson nodded. “I thought so.”

Now all I needed was a good answer.

Chapter 59

A Long Ride Home

After another half an hour of not finding out anything further from Jackson, I left disappointed. I was about to pull out from his gate, but hung back when I heard a truck approach. Slowing at the angled bend nearby, a
tarped
pickup truck eased on by me. My curiosity took over.

I waited a minute then pulled out onto the dirt lane and followed. It was dusk, but I figured that might play to my advantage. In a few minutes, they wouldn’t catch much more than my headlights anyway, so I felt safe tagging along. I could already hear Clay’s lecture. Well, too bad.

I checked my rearview mirror. The coast was clear. No other vehicles were following. I slid back as the driver pulled out onto the paved road and headed south. He traveled in and out, but was running parallel with Route 93. My intuition was telling me to keep following, but to be careful. So by the time they reached the interstate, I slowly eased back as traffic seemed on the light side, not wanting to be spotted and make whoever was driving suspicious.

But the minute darkness drifted in, I closed the gap. This was my break to finally get a plate number for Clay to run. I glanced up, squinting.
…What?
From the rear, another truck’s high-beams blinded me in my rearview mirror.

Hey, moron, why not pass me?

Just in case, I grabbed my cell, but it went airborne after a rough jolt to my rear bumper flipped it to the other floor mat. I stretched, but it was beyond my reach.

After looking up once more, I tore my eyes from the rearview just in time to see taillights flick on in front of me.
Brakes!
I hit mine before I slammed into the tarped truck, then froze. Both trucks were putting the squeeze on me!

My eyes flashed on my cell when it rang with a familiar song.
Clay.
No way could I reach it to yell for help.

I glanced up, spotting a sizable truck barreling down the interstate, approaching us from the left lane.
Was that an eighteen-wheeler? Yes!
Having no hands-free technology, a last ditch effort on my part might be my ticket out.

The truck behind me came in for one more hit, then backed off. The tarped truck in front of me kept tapping his breaks so I’d hit mine. I was a nervous wreck, juggling between the two without much wiggle room.

Maybe they’d back off a little more as this new trucker closed in. I had one shot that might come down to perfect timing on my part, requiring a steady hand to pull it off.

As the eighteen-wheeler got closer, I saw the truck on my back bumper finally ease off. I took a deep, calming breath and gripped the wheel tightly, getting ready.

I wasn’t going to be anybody’s accident waiting to happen, and began pacing the eighteen-wheeler’s speed, realizing there was no other option. It was my only hope.

Eighteen-wheelers should
expect the unexpected.

Chapter 60

Performing A Bypass

Just as that eighteen-wheeler was about to pass us, I floored the gas and whipped left in front of him and took off. As his horn was honking behind me, I looked over to see the tarped truck speed up on my right. I pushed it, but he kept pace trying to get in front of me again.

The other truck was now passing the eighteen-wheeler and trying to get back in position behind me. In seconds, he forced his way over and slipped into place once more. The eighteen-wheeler was furious and began flashing his lights and hitting his horn at being cut off again.

I glanced over and helplessly watched as the tarped truck eased over in front of me. By this time the eighteen wheeler had enough and slipped into the right lane and started to speed up to get away from all of us. I knew I was dead if they got me alone once again.

This cat-and-mouse game wouldn’t go on much longer. They needed the eighteen-wheeler to disappear. I saw the guy in front of me tap his brakes to slow us down, trying to let the eighteen-wheeler pass all of us on the right.

Suddenly I saw an out, a sign up ahead, signaling an exit coming up fast. It was now or never. I whipped my small truck over to the right lane right in front of the eighteen-wheeler. He slammed his horn and burned rubber, as I shot right across his path and out onto the off ramp.

The other two trucks tried to follow, but the eighteen-wheeler was already blocking them and still honking his horn and flashing his lights. I blew the stop sign at the top of the ramp, skidded across the overpass and onto the northbound ramp of the interstate, and then sped for home.

I smiled, knowing there wasn’t another exit for several miles if I had read that sign correctly seconds before. I was still gripping the wheel tightly and forced myself to loosen my fingers. I eyed my cell on the floor, but refused to stop, pull over and pick it up. I wasn’t taking any chances. I’d wait until I was back at my exit and under bright lights.

Besides, who would I call? All I would get is heat for doing a stupid thing like tailing that truck alone at night. I’d tell everyone later when I got back, and give Clay the partial plate number I’d barely gotten. It might help, and with luck, I was sure we’d get closer to what was going on.

I paused. Was that horseplay by some bored lowlifes? I’ve heard my share of stories about innocent women getting caught up in a cat-and-mouse game in the dark, but after what had happened to me lately, I doubted this was one of those incidences. I was
so sure
it was that chop shop crime ring.

…Well, almost sure.

Chapter 61

Dodging Some Heat & Dancing With Dan

As I passed through the covered archway the next morning, I still remembered Clay’s surprising reaction when he heard what happened. I figured he would haul off and yell at me for taking such a risk, but instead he grabbed me and held on tight, whispering, “Sam, please, please don’t do something so foolish like that again. If anything ever happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do.”

That was when the full weight of it hit me. I could have died. But the rest of the crew, although just as emotional about my making it home safe, made up for Clay by giving me hell and making me promise to never do something so stupid again. By that time, I was exhausted from the whole ordeal, begged off dinner, and went straight to bed.

What was going on in the neighborhood?

So the next day, I figured there was one person I had to speak to concerning exactly that point: Dan. I found him kneeling in Sally’s garden among his gardening tools. His back was to me so he didn’t see or hear my approach because he was busy talking on his cell.

“Look, if you can’t handle it, I’ll do it myself. I couldn’t say. It would have been to uncomfortable with me hanging around. You know how it is. No matter what you do, it is never enough. I know, I get it, but that still doesn’t get the job done. No, I’ll handle everything from my end. I know what to do. Okay, catch you later.”

I backed up a few steps, cleared my throat loudly, and continued forward again. He turned, then smiled and stood up, brushing his hands off on his jeans.

“Hi, Dan,” I said, smiling. “I see you’re back early. I guess that means your sister is much better.”

“She sure is because she started being her usual pushy self about my being single. I couldn’t catch a break.”

I smiled, balancing that response with what I had heard. “I know how it gets, relatives and friends included.”

“Besides, there is never enough time to catch up around here, being the only one handling everything. I don’t mind though. It keeps me busy.”

I looked all around. “The gardens look great.”

“Thanks, I’m trying to keep up.”

“How long have you worked for Sally and Tom?”

“Not that long.”

I didn’t want to alert or scare him off so I let that vague answer slide for now. “Are you from around here?”

“Close by. I lived down in Tilton in an apartment doing odd carpentry jobs, construction, or whatever came my way. I’m divorced and decided since my ex took it all, I might as well stick to the pared down life I was left with.”

He shuffled his feet in discomfort.

“Hey, I’m not interested in personal stuff.”
But I was.

“That’s all right. I figured you’d ask eventually.”

I laughed. “I guess being a writer, I can’t help it. I find I’m curious about everything and everyone.”

“I heard you write mysteries.”

“I didn’t start out that way, but then ended up writing about my own experiences with a little change up in who it was actually about, using my protagonist instead.”

“In other words, you changed some names to protect the innocent.”

I laughed on his take of what I did. He was right. “I guess that’s a good analysis of how I go about grabbing dialogue wherever I hear it.”

“As long as you have the right dialogue and are not misinterpreting what you hear, I guess you’re right.”

My eyes sprang to his. What was he getting at? Was I reading more into his words?

It was time for some answers.

Chapter 62

On The Take

“Can I ask you what your take is on some neighbors?”

“Specifically who? I’m sort of a loner and try to keep to myself. I found it’s safer that way.”

That was a strange response.

“I thought you might know something, anything unusual about Robinson and his place.”

He glanced in the general direction of Robinson’s and finally said, “…I heard he was acting odd at the end. He was a loner, too. Larry, who I replaced, said he went over one time for Sally to ask permission to cut back a couple of Robinson’s trees that had fallen on their stone walls in the woods. Larry had to repair the wall and couldn’t with the trees in the way. If Robinson didn’t want the wood, Larry was going to cut it up for firewood for Sally and Tom.”

“Why did Larry say Robinson was acting strange?”

“When Larry went over that last time, there was a lot of hollering going on in Robinson’s barn and…”

I interrupted, asking, “How many voices did he hear?”

“He heard only one other besides Robinson’s.”

“Did he say if he recognized who it was?”

“Yeah, it was that Jackson fella, who worked for Sarah and also did any odd job on the side for some quick cash.”

“Could he hear
what
they were saying?”

“He only caught the tail-end as he approached the barn.”

“What was it about?”

“Something like, why would you put them in the barn in the first place if you knew they were worth good money?”

“Why would Jackson talk so informally to Robinson?”

“Larry said he cleared his throat loudly so they could hear his approach. Then Robinson came strolling out of the barn, as happy as could be, carrying a box. That Jackson fella was nowhere in sight maybe hanging back, not wanting to be seen. That was speculation on Larry’s part.”

“What happened then?”

“Larry told Robinson about the wall, but he still seemed distracted, maybe from his conversation back in the barn.”

“How did Robinson act?”

“He kept mumbling things like, ‘Who would believe me now?’ ‘Why should I trust him?’ ‘What if they found out?’ Larry backed off a little, taken by surprise.”

Same as Millicent said.
“What an odd response.”

“Larry thought so, too, having absolutely no idea what Robinson was talking about and tried to steer him back to what he was referring to so he could get out of there.”

“What did Robinson do? Did he snap out of it?”

“He stared at Larry, trying to place him, but then it registered. Larry had to explain again why he was there. Robinson said to keep the wood and apologized for being out of it. Said he was having trouble with his memory.”

Sounded like that’s not all he was having trouble with.